


Still as Death

by nonnybonny



Category: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
Genre: (Sort of) Necrophilia, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Time Skips, rapist pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22232563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonnybonny/pseuds/nonnybonny
Summary: After years of searching for the beautiful maid he'd met that day, the Prince cannot resist having her just once.
Relationships: Prince/Snow White (Disney)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 77
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Still as Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Harpalyke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harpalyke/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this, recip! Thanks for the fun prompt. :)
> 
> This story assumes that it took the prince much longer to find her than it did in the movie, and also that the seven dwarves weren't constantly watching over her body.

The beauty of the Sleeping Maiden was unmistakable, so much so that the Prince recognized her from just a glance at her gilded tomb. Though she lay still beneath the glass, it was undoubtedly the remains of the vibrant girl he had seen in his dreams all these years past, and it had taken hearing the tale of the small woodsmen to understand just what had come to pass for the young Snow White. The princess had been cruelly slain in the blossom of her youth, a victim of jealousy and hate from the mad queen long departed, and it was devastation that the Prince felt when he laid eyes upon the maid, devastation at perfection lost. His heart trembled when he removed the lid of her coffin to look at her closely one last time, intending nothing more than a kiss of farewell; she would not be his dreamed of bride any longer, but he could not resist the urge for just one touch of her lips.

She had been dead for six years now, so the woodmen said, but Death had not touched her as it did others. Whether it was the inherent beauty of her nature or some spell of the cursed apple that kept her protected, she remained as lovely as ever. Her ebony locks had not grown, but nor had they lost their shine; her rose-red lips were still perfectly formed and sweetly curving, inviting his kiss; her skin was still pale and pristine, as though crafted by the hand of a worshiping artisan. Did the Prince imagine the touch of rouge on her cheeks, giving her a deceptively lively flush? It was a caring gesture from the seven old men who loved her still, and the Prince touched the spot of color with a reverent finger, imagining a blush in its place as he kissed her, caressed her, and held her close. That, too, was not to be; she had died before she had ever known the weight of a man, an untouched maiden until she found her grave.

It would be a kindness, the Prince thought as he touched her pale-soft throat, to give her in death what he could not in life.

Her gown was of the finest craftsmanship, and the yellow satin skirt was smooth to his hands when the Prince lifted it. Her small, delicate ankles peeked out from underneath a lace-trimmed petticoat, adding volume to her slenderness; the Prince lifted that as well, and sighed at the sight of her womanly fur, just as perfect as the rest of her. 

“Oh, my love,” he said with sadness as he touched the fine black hair and slid his finger past the guarding curtain. Her quiver was cool and tight, stiff under his questing fingers; there would be no easing his way as one would with a living woman, and so he did not try. The Prince settled her skirts about her hips and parted her legs widely enough that he could stand between them, and then he barred his stiff pike to the open air. She was so small that moving her limp body close enough was easy, and he aligned his shaft with her cunt. What he wouldn’t give to feel her breaths quicken against his cheek as he pushed inside her for the first time; instead, he had to settle for the way her tomb shook as he took her unresistant body with vigor. Her youthful spirit would’ve deserved such enthusiasm from him on their wedding night; her body deserved no less, even if it had no more appreciation for the act than a doll would. She was still beautiful, worthy of a prince, and even as a doll, there was nothing more beautiful than the sight of her cunt stretched tight around his shaft. 

As he spent himself inside her, gifting her with her first and only mating, the Prince leaned forward and kissed her chilled lips.


End file.
